Читать книгу The London-Bawd: With Her Character and Life - Unknown - Страница 4

How a Married Man, drawn in by a Bawd, kept a Whore, to the Ruine of himself and Family.

We have seen in the last chapter how our Bawd drew in a young Married Woman to deceive her Husband, and wrong the Marriage-Bed: And in this Chapter you shall see how she draws in a Married Man to follow Whoring, so the Ruine of himself, a vertuous Wife, and all his Family: For if she can but Rise, she cares not who she Ruines.—But to the Story.

An Impudent Whore, of our Bawds own bringing up, that by removing to several Quarters, had made a shift to escape Bridewel, which she merited as much as any that ever came thither, had through the Bawds assistance, drawn in one Foolish Fellow, by her Rich Robes, fair face, and fine Words, to maintain her like a Lady; tho' she was but the Daughter of a sorry Informer: Pride and Pleasure were the two Idols she ador'd; and to enjoy them, she cared not how she exposed her poor Cully; who was oblig'd to be liberal to the Bawd for Procuration, as well as to the Whore for Fornication: Till at last her Pride and Pleasure had brought him to Pain and Poverty. Neglecting of his Business, and Maintaining of his Miss, had made him run in Debt, and he began to be so haunted by Bailiffs and Sergeants, that he was forc'd to fly into the Low-Countries to secure himself; Chusing rather to trust to his Heels than his Hands. His Wench was glad she was so rid of him; for being become Poor, and not able to supply her with Money, she was grown quite a weary of him; but not of her way of Living; For as soon as he was gone, she repairs again to the Old Bawd; and acquainted her how matters stood with her. She has made the most of one, and now she must have another: Well, says the Bawd, Do but carry your self, reserv'd and Maidenly, and I have a Spark that has a good Estate, and will be able to spend high upon you; but he must have a Maid, and that I have taught you well enough how to Counterfeit:—Is he a married Man or single, says the Trull?—A married Man, replies the Bawd, but that's nothing as long as he has Money: It were better indeed, that he were single, for then I cou'd draw him in to marry you; and he might make a good Cover; but don't fear but we'll do well enough as 'tis.—Only besure you carry it shy at first, and that's the way to draw him in, and make him the more Eager.—Let me alone for that, says the Whore; do you but bring us together, and then leave it to me to make him bite: I warrant you I'll manage him, or else say I am the veriest Whore in all the Town.—Which she might have safely ventur'd to do, without being Guilty of Lying.

The Plot being thus laid, Mother Damnable goes out upon the scent, and finds the Whore-hunter she wanted; and then tells him, that she had been at great charge and expence to find out a Lass fit for his Purpose, But, says she, tis such a one, That for Beauty, Birth and Breeding, is hardly to be matched in London: She is indeed somewhat Coy, but I will help to Court her for you: I protest I could have had Ten Guineas of Sir R– P– if I would have helpt him to her: But I hate to be worse than my Word; I promised you before, that when I could light of one fit for your Turn, I would help you to her—Mr. Graceless, over-joyed at this News, and to shew himself grateful to the old Bawd, presents her with a Guinea, before he saw his Miss—Who being hereby incouraged, soon brings them together; and at first sight he's mightily taken with her. But she seems very Coy, and wou'd hardly let him salute her; Upon which the Bawd tells her, he's a very worthy Gentleman, and one that deserves her Love. What Love can I expect (replies the cunning Jade) from one that has a Wife already? As soon as he has got what he desires, and taken from me, what's now my only Boast my Maiden-head, my Honour and his Love will both be lost together: and then I shall have nothing left me but too late Repentance. This so effectually wrought upon him, That he made all the Protestations in the World, Nothing shou'd ever part em, if she'd but condescend to accept of him for a Gallant: For tho he had a Wife, 'twas one he cou'd not love, and didn't care for her; whereas he saw those Charms in her, that would constrain him to be always constant. And that if she would promise to be as true to him as she shou'd always find him true to her, it wou'd be all the happiness he'd ask.—And now, to make the Bargain firm, the Bawd engages for both Parties, that they shall each be true to one another. And then after a costly and expensive Match they went to Bed together; where she (instructed by the Bawd) carried her self so cunningly that her besoted Lover thought her as good a Maid as when she was but just come to her Teens.—And that they might the better keep company without discovery, she must pass under the Notion of his Sister, and he of her Brother.

And now she wheedles him with so much pretended Love, that she can have what she will of him: and finding he was flush of Money and had a good Estate, she won't be satisfied without her Countrey-House, which was provided for her accordingly, facing the River-side at Hamersmith; and adorn'd with rich Furniture. And when her Paramour cou'd not come to her, by reason of Business, she then sent to the Bawd, who provided her a Stallion to supply his place, which she paid for doing her Drudgery, with his Money. And yet when he came to see her, she wou'd wipe her mouth as if nothing had been the matter, and cry, why does my Sweeting stay so long away? You don't care for me now! I sigh night after night, and day after day, for want of your Company, but you've a Wife that you love better than you do me; and indeed I told you so at first, and then you told me you'd love me best, and I was so simple as to believe you: But if you had lov'd me best, you wou'd'nt have staid away from me so long, that you wou'd'nt; I am sure if I could have come to you, I woud'nt have staid from you so long. And then she falls a weeping; which so much moves the amorous Cocks-comb, that he falls a kissing her, and giving her all the good Words that can be; cursing his Wife, and calling her all to nought; and telling his Miss that he loves none but her. Having thus brought him to her Bow, she kisses him again, and then says, Well, Honey, if you do love me indeed, I'll be Friends with you, but let me see what you have brought me? Then if he have brought her store of Yellow Boys, she's very well pleas'd with him; but if his Money happen to be short, then she'll be out of humour; 'Tis a sign how you love me, indeed, to stay away so long and then bring me nothing! Here's all the Ladies round about can have new things, but I; and you don't care how I go! Then to put her in a good humour, be promises her a new Satin Gown; but this won't serve her turn neither, she wants jewels and Diamond Rings to answer her other Apparel: And to procure these, he's fain to run on the Score both with the Mercer and Goldsmith—By this means in a little time his Estate comes to be wasted, and his Friends come about him, and advise him to leave off these wicked Courses, which else will end in the Ruine both of Soul and Body: They tell him that he has a fair and vertous Wife of his own, by whom he has had several pretty Children, and therefore wonder how he can be so besotted with a filthy Whore. But when all this prevail'd not, his Wife seeing a wicked Strumpet without cause prefer'd before her, taking a fit opportunity, acquainted her Husband with her grief, and his own dangerous Estate, in this manner:

My dear Husband!

Had I ever given you any just occasion to withdraw your affections from me, you might have had a fairer Plea before Men, for doing what you do; tho' even that wou'd have been no Excuse at the Tribunal of God, whom you principally offend by your present wicked Life. But your own Conscience will tell you, if you dare ask it the Question, that it has been the Business of my whole Life, since I have been married to you, to carry my self towards you as a loving and a vertuous Wife ought to do to her Husband; and have done all that lay in my Power to contribute to your Satisfaction. I have never made your House uneasie to you, by any unbecoming Words or Carriage; nor what occasion so ever you have given me, have I been either Clamorous, or a Brawler. 'Tis true my Heart is almost broke with Grief; and who can blame me? When I see your affection so Estranged from me, your Estate wasted, and my self and Children ready to go a Begging, whilst an impudent Quean is at your Cost maintain'd in her Silks and Sattins; and which is worse than all the rest, your own Soul, in danger of Eternal Ruine. And if this Affects you not, remember your own Reputation in the World: You have lived in Credit and Repute among your Neighbours: and will you Sacrifice that, and Entail Shame and Dishonour upon your Self and Family, for gratifying the Lusts of a filthy and Lascivious Strumpet? If you go on in this Course, you must Morgage your Lands to pay your Debts; and what a shame will that be? Your Father left you an Estate, but you are like to leave an Heir that will have nothing to inherit; and so will be an Heir only in Name. Think, O my Husband, what a Reflection it will be upon you, when Men shall say, Your Father left you an Estate to live upon, but you have spent it upon Whores, and left your Children Beggars. This was your Fathers House, but you have sold it to maintain your Miss. Consider the Reproach that this will bring upon your Children: You brought 'em up like Gentlemen, and then betray'd 'em to Want and Beggery. Have you forgot the Vow you made when we were Married? You promis'd then to take none but my self: Yet now you let a Harlot take away your Love from me, that am your faithful and your loving Wife; and might have been by you Esteem'd so still, if this Lewd Woman had not made strife between us: You promis'd at your Marriage that none but Death should seperate us. And as my self has never broke that promise, so you have never had from me any occasion given you to do it: And I am ready still to embrace you in my Arms, with all the tenderest Affections of a loving Wife. O let me beg of you, that you wou'd hearken to my sorrowful Complaint, pity my Tears, and suffer not your Family to perish, but bear a Fathers Heart towards these, that are the Children of your Body. Or if you'll pity neither me nor your poor Children, pity your self: for you will suffer most in the Conclusion: You cannot think that you please God in living as you do: Can you take Comfort (think you) in remembering that you have ruin'd both your self and Family, by keeping of a Whore, when you shall lie upon your Dying Bed, and your poor Soul is just taking of its flight into Eternity? How will that Sentence terifie your Conscience,